Guilty Until Proven Innocent
by GreenTree
Summary: Basically, I put this in here because it is a teen drama. Denny Carlisle is caught between two worlds when her brother and best friend is accused of murder. It gets harder to believe him when evidence and the world says otherwise. Please R
1. Chapter 1

GUILTY UNTIL PROVEN INNOCENT

Prologue

My brother Joey is my best friend.

Up until a year ago, he was my hero.

What happened?

That's all I have been thinking about lately. What happened those nights when Joey and Erin went to the river? What happened those nights when Joey lay awake in jail, lost as a freshly hatched chick. But a chick has a mother's pure unconditional love. Joey had Mom's love, but her love came with doubts, insecurities, and restrictions.

At least after September 24.

What happened?

What happened on September 24? What happened after Joey left the house, to spend a night with his lover under the wide skies of Kansas? What happened that made his lover die on the very spot where she and he had made promises of never-ending love?

What happened?

Who did it?

Is my hero a murderer?

I was only fourteen when it happened. Still a child, yet blooming, slowly into an adult. That night, the innocence of my family, myself, and mostly, my brother was lost. Joey, already imperfect and flawed in the eyes of Greenville, turned into a monster, meant to be locked up tight until his eyes lost all lust for life, all hope, all happiness.

What happened?

What happened to Erin?  
What happened to me?

What happened to Joey?

CHAPTER 1

On September 24, the Kansas sky was as clear and blue as could be. The sun did not beat down on us, but shone brightly and gently. There was not a cloud for miles around, and a gentle breeze pleasantly drifted by.

It was a Friday, and Joey and I had a date at the river.

That's what we called our afternoons by the river. Our "dates" were not really romantic, obviously. Joey was my older brother, sixteen to my fourteen. He and I were best friends, literally. Some people whispered about us, clucking disapprovingly when they saw Joey and me deep in conversation by the river. Although I was popular at my school, and had plenty of friends, Joey was more of a loner. He had some guys he would go skating with at the playground, but besides that, it was just me.

And Erin.

Erin was one of those life size Barbie dolls who catches the attention of every hormonal teenage guy within a five mile radius. She was a cheerleader, honor student, and one heck of kisser, from what Joey said.

She was also my brother's girlfriend.

Needless to say, with my brother's reputation in Greenville, my parents were completely thrilled when Joey made Erin his girl. Her parents…not so much.

All because Joey was different.

Not special-ed different, just _different. _

Joey didn't fit the Greenville mold. He wasn't an athlete by any means other than skateboarding, which in our town, wasn't considered a real sport. Joey got Cs in school, except in English, where he was one of the top students. Joey was a serious, free-thinker. He thought long and hard about what he believed and said. And when he said something, he meant it. Often, Joey would launch a discussion in class about some controversial current event. When there was a bill proposed by the City Council to add creationism to our science curriculum, Joey went to the meetings where he argued that creationism was a belief that dealt with a religion that some might disagree with or not believe. Despite Joey's efforts the bill was passed. The Council said his claims about religion were ridiculous because there was only one church in Greenville, and everyone attended that one church.

Except for Joey.

It wasn't that my brother was an atheist; in fact he was very religious. He just had his own set of beliefs that mixed and mashed together until he was satisfied that he had explained it all. Sure, he went to church every now and again, but he spent most Sunday mornings in the river, strumming his guitar or writing poems. Sometimes he didn't do either one of those, he just sat and thought.

Now you have to understand that Joey wasn't a druggie, he wasn't a felon, he just had the guts to show the way he thought and felt and viewed the world around him. I agreed with most of what Joey thought. I liked his idea of blending religions together. I backed him up when he went to the City Council to speak out against creationism. But there was one major difference between Joey and I.

I fit in.

I took all honors courses in school. I had tons of friends and was secretary of the Greenville Middle School Student Council. I went to church and played the cello and took dance lessons in Matilda Horner's basement every Tuesday night.

Needless, to say, I was accepted in Greenville.

But the town still peered at me and whispered behind my back with suspicion after they saw Joey and I deep in conversation at the edge of the river. They clucked their tongues, and quietly murmured when I skipped a church service to spend the morning with Joey. And some of the braver souls warned me.

"Be careful," they said. "Watch out for Joey."

I thought this was ridiculous. My brother was the sweetest person I had ever known. He genuinely cared about everyone and everything around him, and when he loved, he loved with a passion.

Joey was my hero because he was the only in Greenville who had the courage to stand up and say what was really on my mind. I did not have that courage, but I wanted it. God knows I wanted it.

Which is why I clung to Joey for dear life.

And because I clung, I too, was brought down when he lost his grip on our small ledge on the cliff of Earth. I tumbled into the darkness with him.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Joey was waiting for me when I arrived at the high school on September 24. His shaggy black hair hung around his face, partially covering green eyes and tan skin. Joey was pretty hot, in a different, emo way. Not that my brother was emo, he just looked it.

He nodded a hello to me, and we headed for the river. Joey rode his skateboard, which he'd received on his tenth birthday. I rode my bike. The bike was nearly twenty years old, and had been my mother's before it was mine. We rode past the drugstore, where Mr. Little shot us disapproving looks. He hated "those damn skateboards" because more often than not, local skateboarders would knock over his outside display racks. Then came Third Avenue, where Mrs. Carlson lived. She wasn't very fond of Joey. As a boy, he'd ridden his bike through her petunia beds on more than one occasion. A few more blocks, left on Elm Street, right on Fifth, and we were there.

We sat on our favorite rock. Gray and flat, it protruded into the river, with water rushing around it. The riverbank was steep, and we were practically invisible when sitting on our rock. Joey produced two Cokes from his backpack, and I brought out Little Debbies. We sat for awhile skipping rocks and making small talk about school. But I could tell that he had something else on his mind.

"Joey, quit it. I don't want to hear about your math test," I said.

He looked taken aback, but then a little sheepish, as if he had a secret that he was trying to hide, but knew that I would find out.

"What's on your mind, really?" I asked

"Erin and I have a date tonight."

"So? You've been going out since June. You've had lots of dates."

"This one's different."

"Why?"

Joey took a deep breath, as if he was preparing to dive into water.

"I'm bringing her to the river. To show her the rock, and just all the places we go when you and I come down here."

"Oh."

"Look, it's not like I'm replacing you or anything. You're my best friend. She's my girlfriend. There's a huge difference."

Joey and I never called each other brother or sister. Our connection was more friends than siblings, but it ran deeper, into our blood. I suppose that's what happens when your best friend is you brother.

"Denny? Denny! _Denise!_"

My full name got my attention. "What?"

"Are you mad about me bringing Erin here?"

"No."

"Sure seems like it."

I could never hide anything from Joey.

"Well…I guess…this is kind of _our_ place. It's just special for us."

"Denny, it won't be special to Erin and me. Not like it is for us. It'll be different. I just want to show her where all the great thinking of mine happens."

Joey had a sense of humor, but he was horrible at making jokes. "Look, I'm fine with you guys coming here. Just don't do anything too dirty, okay? I want to be able to sit on this rock without imagining you two going at it."

Joey came home around nine-thirty. Usually he and Erin stayed out late, coming back only a few minutes before curfew at eleven. I was watching baseball with my parents and little brother Eddie when he came storming in. He didn't look at any of us, just stormed up to his room. My parents looked anxiously up the stairs, but neither moved. They knew better than to disturb Joey when he was in one of his moods.

Later, on my way to bed, I heard Joey softly strumming his guitar. The tune was odd, syncopated, and remorseful. It had a mix of emotions that confused me. Usually Joey wrote with one emotion, clean and pure. But not tonight.

I knocked quietly. No answer, just music. So I opened the door and walked in. Abruptly, the music stopped. Joey looked up at me with angry eyes. "What?" he bellowed. His tone was threatening, scary almost. Joey had _never_ been mad at me.

"I-I just wanted to see if you were all right," I stuttered.

"I'm fine." He slowly began to turn away.

"No you're not. I know it. Please, Joey, just tell me."  
As soon as I spoke, I knew I'd gone too far. Joey turned to face me, his face full of anger.

"You know what annoys me about you? You always have to be in everyone else's business. You don't know how to just let people alone. You always think you understand, but you're just a nosy bitch, Denny, face it."

"Joey…why are you-"

"Just shut up and get out! Just for like five minutes get out of my life."

Joey was steaming red. His face, his body, his room all teemed with anger and hatred. My throat began to close and tears began to fall down my face.

His expression softened. "Denny, it's not you, look-"

But I was already long gone, out of his room, out of his life, just like he wanted.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Needless to day, I didn't sleep much that night.

I couldn't believe that Joey, my Joey, would just push me out of his life like that. He'd never been mad at me. _Never._ At the time, I didn't think that there had to be a reason for Joey's anger. All I could comprehend was that Joey hated me, and that the entire town of Greenville had been right about him all along.

I didn't wake till ten the next morning. The house was unusually silent that Saturday. I lay in bed, feeling the weight of the world on my back. The sky was gray, to match my mood. Even the house felt unhappy, as if its best friend had rejected it, too.

Shuffling downstairs, I could smell pancakes, but the usual breakfast chatter was absent. An eerie, morose silence had settled over my home. As I entered the kitchen, I felt that bad news was about to come my way.

My family seemed to be as glum as I was. No one spoke as I entered the room. Even eight year old Eddie, who was usually quite talkative, stared quietly into his cornflakes. My parents stared at the paper, and Joey sat with his back turned, facing the window. I was glad. I had no desire to speak or even see him now. My sadness had turned to anger.

The silence continued as I wolfed down two pancakes. Misery can make you hungry. Finally, I looked up and examined my family's faces. Had Joey hurt them all? But the expression on my parents' and Eddie's faces was not of anger or sorrow, but of shock. They all had wide eyes and seemed speechless. Yet behind the shocked expressions was grief.

I sat in the silence for a few more minutes, until I could bear it no longer.

"What happened?"

My voice jolted the family out of its coma. They all turned to look at me, surprised, as if we had just met.

"Denise…"Mom said, her voice crackled with tears.

Joey turned to face me. His features were devoid of any expression.

"Erin was found dead near the river."

He turned around, and I knew that my brother was no longer the boy who had been my friend.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"We are gathered here to celebrate the life of Erin Nicole Lewis, a life which was much loved and tragically ended."

The words of the minister sliced through the still air of the church. Joey slumped over in the pew, as the minister continued on about how wonderful Erin was. In the week that Erin died, the only words I had heard him speak were to announce her death. He wouldn't look anyone in the eye, and came out of his room for meals and school only.

It was like I lost my brother when the town lost Erin.

Next to me, my mother dutifully dabbed at her eyes, Eddie, who had been promised ice cream if he attended the funeral, swung his legs against the pew. My father looked straight ahead with the expressionless face that many others in the tiny church wore. I fidgeted constantly, smoothing wrinkles out of my striped skirt, folding the little bulletin with Erin's picture on it in to various origami shapes. As the funeral dragged on, Joey's mind seemed to be leaving this world, and taking up residence in his own, more private universe.

I wanted nothing more than to go with him.

Erin Lewis hadn't just died.

She'd been murdered.

Murdered with a hammer, or baseball bat. Her skull was struck again and again, until it was no longer recognizable. Just pieces of human bone and flesh, twisted together in the most grotesque manner.

"Who did it?"

The minister's next words jolted me awake. As I looked to the pulpit, I saw that Reverend Townsley was staring straight at Joey with the cold, unfeeling eyes of a stranger who does not care.

"What kind of evil must one be possessed with to obtain the ability to destroy God's greatest gift, human life? And although I know it is hard, friends, we are not the ones who can judge that kind of evil. That judgment is for our Heavenly Father to make. And friends, I know in my heart that whoever did this will be judged as he should be."

There was no mention of forgiving, no mention of love that the Reverend usually incorporated into his sermons. There was only talk of harsh judgment and the entire town of Greenville judging my brother.

I could feel their stone-cold stares, hating, despising, and fearing. I saw it in the way our neighbors did not allow their children to come outside when Joey was out. I saw it in the way people at school looked at me with alarm and disgust. I saw it in the way my own mother, and Joey's too, had forbidden me to go out alone with Joey.

Why?

Look at the facts. Erin Lewis, a model citizen, and her boyfriend, Joey Carlisle, a seemingly troublemaker, go out for a date by the river. Joey returns home early, teeming with anger. Erin doesn't return home. Her stepfather, who just happens to be the county sheriff, goes out looking for her, and finds her horribly mutilated and beaten. She is dead.

Now the suspects.

Her mother and stepfather love her dearly, and are upstanding Greenville citizens. They are regular churchgoers, members of the Masonic Temple, and both are well-respected in their workplaces. They were at home that night, as were her ex-boyfriend, and a fellow cheerleader who was extremely jealous of Erin. And those who lived by the river did report seeing any perspective murderers from outside of Greenville sneaking around that night.

So who does that leave?

How about her boyfriend? An average student, except in English, where he dominates with his poetry, which often has a darker tone. A loner, who has few friends, and who is seen by the river almost every day. A young man who is known to stir up trouble. He went out with Erin, and most likely had a fight, which would explain why he came home in a fit of rage. He also just happens to be the last person to have seen Erin alive.

In the eyes of Greenville, Joey was guilty.

The funeral ended, and we made are way up to the front to give our condolences to the grieving family. All around us, people shoot us hateful and suspicious looks. One lady says, just loud enough for me to hear, that Joey has no right to attend his victim's funeral.

These people can't mean my brother. Not the Joey I know, not sweet, loving Joey, who used to liberate Roach Motels?

What if the Joey I know isn't who he really is?

What if the real Joey is a heartless killer?

Erin's family didn't exactly look pleased to see us there. Her mother shrunk back in fear, and her stepfather looked at Joey with the same disgust that one might look at a dead mouse with. My parents gushed about how sorry they were and what a horrible tragedy it was. Mrs. Gregory (her remarried name, of course) pursed her lips and nodded. Her father never acknowledged any presence other than Joey.

Just as we turned to leave Joey spoke up.

"I loved her, too."

The whole church was silenced as everyone waited to see what would happen next.

"You didn't love her. The whole world knows it." Mrs. Gregory spat her words out with more venom than I thought her capable of.

"I did, and I miss her more than anything. I've never felt such pain in my life. I didn't hurt her Mrs. Gregory, and I never would. I don't know who…who…did this, but I want to help find him. I want to make him pay."

The silence turned to frenzied whispers. What was the Carlisle boy getting at? He couldn't really be asking to help after what he'd done, could he? I watched with awe and satisfaction. This was the Joey I knew. Surely now, after this statement, we could all ban together as a town in order to find Erin's killer.

Mrs. Gregory threw back her head and laughed a cold, mocking laugh. Her husband remained silent. It was he who now bore the look of terror.

Joey's eyes widened, and he knew that he had failed. He bowed his head as slow, quiet tears began to roll down his cheeks.

Mrs. Gregory smirked. "Cry all you want boy, but you'll never know what I feel right now. You'll never know the pain. You'll never know how much I want you to pay with every cell in your body. You'll never know Crying won't change a thing, not the way I feel about you, and not what you did to Erin."


	5. Chapter 5

A couple of days after the funeral, I walked towards my usual cafeteria, where my usual friends sat. Everything was normal as could be, except for the absence of one of my closest friends.

"Where's Caitlin?" I asked.

My friends Allie and Lauren exchanged a look, and I knew immediately that Caitlin's disappearance from our lunch table had something to do with Joey.

Allie was the first to speak. "Well, Caitlin is Erin's cousin and well…"

Lauren cut in. "Basically, she told us that she doesn't want to be with you because everyone knows that you'll stand up for Joey. And her parents won't let her come over to your house anyway, so she figured she might as well just…just…"

Even bold Lauren, who never had any trouble saying what was on her mind couldn't finish that sentence. It's not like I didn't expect it. Caitlin had been really close to her cousin, and she'd hardly spoken to me in the week since Erin's death. Although I'd pushed it far to the back of my mind, I knew that eventually she would want to end our friendship. But I hadn't thought that eventually would be so soon.

Suddenly, my appetite disappeared. I left the table without a word, and my friends could sense that I just wanted to be left alone. I made my way out of the cafeteria, and as I left I saw Caitlin eating with some of our other friends. She turned my way, and for just a moment, a flicker of guilt and pain crossed her face. She shook her head, and turned back to the conversation at her table. That was just too much for me. I turned and ran to the bathroom as fast as I could.

I don't know how long I sat there crying on the bathroom floor. It's kind of like my mind blocked all that sadness out. The next thing I remember is Joss Farmer handing me a piece of toilet paper with a kind smile.

"It's easier to blow your nose on this than on the paper towels."

I smiled weakly, and blew my nose as tears continued to roll down my face.

Joss slid down next to me, and listened as I told her how everyone had treated me since September 24. Threatening notes pushed into my locker, glares from teachers and students, whispers and pitying looks from those who felt sorry for me. And now the betrayal of my friend, one who I had known since kindergarten and who suddenly saw me as the enemy.

I ended with, "They just don't get it. Joey wouldn't do it. He couldn't do it. And I know I didn't do anything. But they don't care. People stick threats in my books, even call my house and tell me to make Joey confess. Teachers look at me differently, like they think I'll pull out a gun any minute. And some of my friends don't talk to me anymore, don't hang out. And what did I do? Nothing! And I still get this crap…You know, I almost hate Joey for it. I've never been mad at him before, and now-"

"Don't get mad at Joey."

Joss was now staring at me with a colder look in her eyes. "You don't know if he did it. You don't. Stand by him, whatever happens. Do want to lose him forever?"

I looked at her up and down. Joss was an odd character. Friendly enough, but more of a loner. She had a few friends, but preferred to spend lunch eating and reading in the library. Joss was one of the few people my age who was not born in Greenville. No one knows where she came from, just that about a year ago, she and her mother blew into town and moved into a tiny house on Maple Street. I had always liked Joss, but had never really talked to her. And now, she seemed to know what she was talking about, exactly how I felt.

Before I could ask any questions, Joss bounced up and became her cheery self again. She handed me a pink Post-It with her phone number on it and told me to call her anytime. And just as suddenly as she came, Joss Farmer was gone.

If things were bad at school, they were fifty times worse at home. We didn't talk about the numerous times the police had come to question Joey and my parents. We didn't dare mention when two officers showed up at our house with a search warrant and tore our house apart, looking for possible evidence or a weapon. Erin's stepfather was in charge of the case which made the investigation even more unbearable.

Then there were the phone calls. Day and night, anonymous people called to harass and threaten us. We didn't have caller ID, so it was impossible to tell when the phone rang if the caller was a friend, or more often, a foe. People threatened to come and kill Joey, or our entire family. They told us we were all going to hell. They yelled and screamed the most unimaginable things at us. It got so bad that parents no longer allowed my brothers or I to answer the phone.

And finally, there was the wonderful people who I had once been proud to call my family. Joey rarely spoke at all, and never once looked anyone in the eye. I tried to talk to him, but he simply shook his head and asked me to leave him alone for a bit. I cried at night about how much I missed my friend, and my brother. I felt that when Erin died, she might as well have taken Joey with her, because he was no use here on Earth.

My parents went about their business in a solemn manner, never speaking to Joey except when absolutely necessary. They didn't allow us out after dark, and on the rare occasion a friend asked me to come over, I wasn't able to go unless their parents were home. But even worse than my parents' cold attitudes and overprotective behavior was the way they acted around Eddie and me. They were off-the-walls perky, and downright optimistic. They acted as if the world was made of sugary goodness, and constantly bombarded us with their peppy brand of comfort. As if being out-of-control excited would change anything. Guess what? It didn't.

One night, during a particularly unbearable dinner, with Mom and Dad shunning Joey, while showering Eddie and me with their fake-happy attitudes, the doorbell rang. We all froze, knowing what was coming. No one in Greenville visited with neighbors from seven o'clock on. And with our tarnished reputation, it was highly unlikely that anyone was just stopping in for a chat.

Joey was the first to move towards the door. The rest of us followed in a slow, somber procession. As we reached our stained-glass and wood door, Joey stopped for an instant looked around sadly, and then continued on. At the door were Mr. Gregory and another officer. They held all the papers necessary, and Mr. Gregory held handcuffs. Erin's step-dad looked relieved, almost happy, while the other officer's face was expressionless.

"Joseph Samuel Carlisle, you are under arrest."

Life as I knew it had officially ended.


End file.
